Bab: a Sub-Deb eBook

At last, feeling I could stand no more, I said this
to the Stranger as he was paying me. He was so
surprized that he dropped a quarter in the road, and
did not pick it up. I went back for it later but
some one else had found it.

“Oh!” he said. “And all this
time I’ve been beleiving that you—­well,
no matter. So you think it’s a mistake
to delay to long?”

“I think when one has somthing Right or Wrong
to do, and that’s for your conscience to decide,
it’s easier to do it quickly.”

“I see,” he said, in a thoughtfull manner.
“Well, perhaps you are right. Although
I’m afraid you’ve been getting one fifty
cents you didn’t earn.”

“I have never hung around,” I retorted.
“And no Archibald is ever a sneak.”

“Archibald!” he said, getting very red.
“Why, then you are——­”

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” I
said, and got into the car and went away very fast,
because I saw I had made a dreadfull Slip and probably
spoiled everything. It was not untill I was putting
the car up for the night that I saw I had gone off
with his overcoat I hung it on a nail and getting
my revolver from under a board, I went home, feeling
that I had lost two hundred dollars, and all because
of Familey pride.

How true that “pride goeth before a fall”!

I have not yet explained about the revolver.
I had bought it from the gardner, having promised
him ten dollars for it, although not as yet paid for.
And I had meant to learn to be an expert, so that I
could capture the Crimenal in question without assistance,
thus securing all the reward.

But owing to nervousness the first day I had, while
practicing in the chicken yard, hit the Gardner in
the pocket and would have injured him severely had
he not had his garden scizzors in his pocket.

He was very angry, and said he had a bruize the exact
shape of the scizzors on him, so I had had to give
him the ten plus five dollars more, which was all
I had and left me stranded.

I went to my domacile that evening in low spirits,
which were not improved by a conversation I had with
Tom that night after the Familey had gone out to a
Club dance.

He said that he did not like women and girls who did
things.

“I like femanine girls,” he said.
“A fellow wants to be the Oak and feel the Vine
clinging to him.”

“Just what do you mean by afectionate?”
he asked, in a stern voice. “Is it afectionate
for you to sit over there and not even let me hold
your hand? If that’s afection, give me
somthing else.”

Alas, it was but to true. When away from me I
thought of him tenderly, and of whether he was thinking
of me. But when with me I was diferent. I
could not account for this, and it troubled me.
Because I felt this way. Romanse had come into
my life, but suppose I was incapable of loving, although
loved?